


what it costs

by heistpost



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Demon Deals, Demons, M/M, Vague Connections, Witches, no dog eating dw, there's binding literally and figuratively
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heistpost/pseuds/heistpost
Summary: "I don't eat, human, not that." He pointed a finger at the chow mein on the floor, then raised it slowly at Mingyu and let it linger for a few minutes. "That, on the other hand..."Mingyu's Adam's apple bobbed up and down his throat, and for a little while, he lost the slightest bit of his composure, an arm flying protectively to Bobtori pressed against his chest. "Not the dog.Anythingbut the dog."(Alternatively, here's the thing about deals with demons. They don't ever end well.)
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42
Collections: SVT Fear Exchange





	what it costs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Klavier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klavier/gifts).



> PROMPT FOR MINGHAO X ANY:  
> A young witch loses control and transports himself into the demon realm.
> 
> i am well aware this is an unconventional pov to be telling a story in and somewhat straying away from the whole point of the exchange but i'll try my best to explore it in such a way that still delivers what it promises. the entire lore in this fic is purely original and is not based on any single lore abt witches and demons. partly bc i am queen of my world and bc I'm too busy (lazy) to do extensive research. 
> 
> thanks so much to the mods for hosting this exchange and for being patient with me ;;; u guys rock <3 
> 
> here's to my writer (hi!! <3) and everyone else! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing this~
> 
> if i happen to miss a few tags here and there, please do let me know!

The demon counts the human days through the help of an ancient white clock hanging on the wall directly opposite to where he's sitting. Blatant mockery to his current state. A timeless entity, seeking comfort in time, bound by foreign words taking translucent form and clasping around his wrist and feet stinging him every time he pulls. Demon chains, the human called them. (The demon thought he could be a little bit more creative than that.) Said they're his first original spell that worked on a real demon and that he is proud of it. 

"Pretty durable, isn't it?" The human asked after a few unsuccessful tugs and elicited hisses out of the demon's mouth. He inched a little too close to admire the glinting chain of words swirling around the demon's wrists when the demon snaps at him, barely missing his jaw by a few inches, and his flesh sizzled against the chains, embossed with yet another layer of the same, cackling imprint. "Easy. We don’t want to get very excited." 

The demon sank back against the wall and chuckled in contempt. The heat, he could take. Hell, after all, is a pretty stuffy place with a high risk of incineration. What irked him more than the burning flesh no one has ever managed before is the human's triumphant and borderline condescending smile for that very reason. It's not a personal jab. It's a smile of one race a step closer to victory in a war against another race. A witch successfully binding a demon is unprecedented, the means a breakthrough for the humankind. It's only a matter of time until this gets out and the demon finds himself putting up a spectacle for an entire crowd of witches who is ready to poke him with their wands and shit. 

Well, _shit._

"What's your name?" 

The spell on the chains proved to have worked far better than expected. The burn soaked through layers of muscles and a poisonous effect slithered up along his arms, sucking strength and power off cell after cell until they turn electrifyingly numb. The human probably wasn't even aware of the extent of his spell. It could be a fluke, sure, yet against his will, the demon's chest swelled with a newfound respect for his abilities. He didn't answer him, even if it brought them down to the only other path this conversation could take. 

"Don't want to tell me? Then, I guess I'm gonna have to give you one."

The demon clenched his jaw. Of course, this witch knows how _demon binding_ works. The universe couldn't just give him a dumb human who accidentally summoned the demon by drawing the right figures on a piece of bread with mustard whom he could eat their soul after an extravagant mortal wish and go on his merry little way. "If you're as smart you said you are, you wouldn't dare." 

"I have to," and after a pause, "I name you Minghao _."_

The demon cast his head down, fangs sinking into his own lips. The binds felt heavier than before, burdened by a new weight cast by a single word. _Fucking witches._

"What's your name, demon?" The human asked again, with a new level of authority in his voice that every cell in the demon's body acknowledges. _Respects._ He's had countless masters, countless transactions. A sort of contract as it is popularly put. Humans with greed and their wildest dreams; wealth, land, power, _happiness_ (but is it indeed greed when all humans seek the same?) and a demon with the means.

A gift fit for a mortal, a price that provides momentary satisfaction to a miserable demon drifting for eternity. In his personal experience, mortals tend to get the short end of the stick seeing as they are mortals with unbelievably short lives and with stupidity to boot for making the deal in the first place. 

The human before him doesn't look stupid at all. He wore his hair brown and long which was already an impressive feat to look good in, or at the very least, not _look_ stupid in. Tufts of it daringly blanketed half his nape. Behind the round glasses were two deep-set yet gleeful eyes that can cut. 

It's peculiar to be put in a situation wherein a _human_ appears to benefit more from the bond, given that the human appears to want more than just worldly material to satisfy his selfish needs. Information, after all, is the most powerful weapon to wield in any war and the demon is now obliged to tell him everything he needs to know now that he has a name. 

The demon looked up to lock eyes with the witch, channeling damnation through his fiery red eyes to the best of his abilities. It wasn’t only the chains binding him to submission at the moment. No, not anymore. In all the times he had felt this before, for some reason, _this one_ had stomped on his pride hard enough to drive it down further underground. The witch stood his ground impressively, on top of it. A ghost of a smirk hovering on his lips.

"Are you aware of that fact that you're stuck with me until one of us perishes?" the demon asked, voice low, sticky. Dangerous. A futile final attempt to scare him off. "Which is soon."

"I know how it works." The human said, cool. Unwavering. "What's your name?"

The demon took his sweet time before finally gritting out, "Minghao." 

"Minghao,” the human repeated and sunk on his ass on the floor. He crossed his arms, charms dangling on both his bony wrists. “I’m Mingyu.”

The demon snorted.

“So," the human asked, clearing his throat and clearly looking satisfied with himself. "What do you eat?" 

-

The demon counts one week since his new master. 

Since then Mingyu the Human has been milking him for all useful information he has against the entire demon race but the silent, gloating aura has pretty much died off after the first day, replaced by the twinkle of pure, unadulterated curiosity about a race foreign to his own. And Minghao has been giving him everything he wants to hear after swearing to tell him nothing but the truth. 

"You know you can have everything you want right?" Minghao said in a smooth, velvet voice. "Power greater than any other in the world. More than you can even begin to imagine." 

"Power. Hmm, that's tempting." Didn't sound like he was tempted one bit. The human had been shuffling his notes and books all over the basement floor before Minghao, who was now sitting on a comfortable couch yet still bound with the demon chains. He plucked the pen neatly tucked above his ear and tapped it onto his lower lip, frowning at his own scribbles like he couldn't read them. Minghao found himself fighting off a smile. "What kills demons again?"

The demon rolled his eyes. "Greek fire." 

"No shit. _The_ Greek fire?" His eyes went wide for a second before he's jotting things down like crazy. "Okay, how do you make that?" 

Luring him into his own personal, selfish desires was a dead end, surprisingly. If the demon didn't know any better, he might begin to think he is devoid of any of it completely, but he does and he knows well enough every action is propelled by desire. Human desires specifically are often an intricate network of seemingly unrelated Points A to Z. Layers. Reasons on top of reasons. Very rarely is a human motivated by anything otherwise. Mingyu's just happens to be much more complex than most people, something different. Something that betrays the obvious, unexpected. A witch with no desire for power... if not power, why else would a witch do this? 

Destruction for the sake of just destruction is not it. Mingyu doesn't strike him as someone that despicable. Every day he asks him what a demon eats to fix him up a proper meal. Why bother being humane to a demon you wish to destroy? (Minghao doesn't answer his question: he just smiles at him predatorily, and watches as Mingyu awkwardly drops the topic and moves onto his next question.) 

In the first few days, the demon refused to cooperate partially because of his weakening body, but the spell has been wearing off little by little since then until it finally lost its power completely, letting Minghao secretly shake off his binds on the fifth day and regain the full functionality of both his previously incapacitated arms. 

He could kill Mingyu when he comes. Not directly, but he could easily pull some cosmic strings for him to meet his demise like those who preceded him. A simple slip on the way down the basement floor. A cracked neck will do it. Or a gas leak. Food poisoning. Kill him off through excessive shitting. The sooner, the better, before he knows more than he should. 

On the fifth day, Mingyu laid a tray of Chinese food in front of him gingerly. His dog, Bobtori, barked at his feet. At Minghao. "Come on, eat. You haven't eaten in," he looked at the clock as if that would tell the date, "five days."

That was correct. 

Minghao was still on the floor then, selling his imprisoned demon narrative poorly by draping himself all over the floor as if he owns the entire place. Mingyu didn't seem to mind how comfortable he looks. In fact, he took it as an invitation for small talk, which Minghao graciously indulged. Minghao's good at small talk. He's had a couple of decades of practice and the natural charm for it. "Did you also figure out I eat Chinese food? Or anything at all?"

Mingyu hummed, picking up Bobtori off the floor. "Yeah, no. I should've brought you that raw chicken instead. Or would you prefer a live one?" 

Minghao laughed, which took Mingyu by surprise since it was the very first time the demon has showed any expression except the smug "I Might Be Your Slave But I Haven't Lost Yet". "I don't eat, human, _not that."_ He pointed a finger at the chow mein on the floor, then raised it slowly at Mingyu and let it linger for a few minutes. "That, on the other hand..." 

Mingyu's Adam's apple bobbed up and down his throat, and for a little while, he lost the slightest bit of his composure, an arm flying protectively to Bobtori pressed against his chest. "Not the dog. _Anything_ but the dog."

The demon's face darkens with a silent, looming threat, one that doesn't need words to be heard. responded with a long tongue swiping across his bottom lip and a toothy smile, his fangs out. His grin only stretched wider as seconds passed, just enough for Mingyu to catch on that in this scenario, _he_ is the dinner. 

"Damn," the human muttered. "We're not even being subtle anymore." 

Mingyu didn't come back down again until a day and a half after, with a bottle filled with what must be holy water tucked closely to his side ever since. 

-

"That won't work on me."

"Huh?"

"The holy water." The demon pointed at his bottle. "That won't work on me."

Mingyu cleared his throat, eyes shifting to the side, and the base of his neck reddening. "Oh yeah, of course. I-I know that."

Minghao writhed in pain that night for lying. He didn't regret it. 

\- 

After the seventh day, the witch doesn't bother with the chains and even forgot why he did in the first place. 

"A name is enough binding," Mingyu says, tapping his wand in the air. Minghao frowns whenever the end of it gets uncomfortably close to the human's eyes. "And I know my spell works wonders on any demon. No reason to keep you tied up. Do _not_ eat Bobtori, that's a direct order." 

Actually, the "demon chains" _keep_ Minghao in one place; in the basement, where he's a constant and not a stray dangerous entity roaming around freely on his own accord. But as it turns out, Mingyu insists on being a humanitarian even if the one receiving such treatment isn't a human in the first place despite its preference for taking a human form. Minghao finds out he detests the idea of chains in the first place, pushing through with the spell only for its necessity and not because he takes pleasure in seeing bounded creatures in his basement. 

That was nice of him, Minghao admits. He also reassesses his initial opinion about Mingyu and calls him Maybe A Little Stupid. Without the chains, Minghao can freely tail him as much as he likes, which doesn't increase the odds of Mingyu coming out of this unscathed. A pretty big variable to just shrug off as easily as that. Minghao puts a little pin on it in his head, _Mingyu the Human is pretty dumb for not caring about death when it comes for him._ Which is constantly now, that Minghao's free. 

Instead, he takes Minghao out for a drive and a dinner at the nearest diner. 

When Mingyu dumps two little plastic trays of burger and fries combo on their table, Minghao asks him out loud. "Why are you obsessed with getting me to eat?" 

"Simply because I refuse to believe you don't ever eat." Mingyu pushes a tray closer to him, hitting him on the chest deliberately. "You don't have to, sure. But it makes me feel a lot better if my company eats while I do." 

Minghao ends up doing what the human wishes because he's bound to and because of curiosity blooming at the pit of his stomach like a spell-cast flower. It has been a while since he's consumed human food, makes it a point not to unless absolutely necessary. The stares Mingyu gives him suggests it's the latter, so he brings a fry to his lips and chews slowly, carefully. Swallows. He bites into the burger it the same way he does with the fry. Mingyu smiles at him encouragingly, nodding. "Best burgers in this side of the town. Very good, huh?"

"Yeah." And it was the truth. Just not something the demon himself acknowledges, or even capable of. 

The demon could taste nothing; stripped of tastebuds, and anything else that brings him pleasure after dying and coming back as a demon. Food only reminds him how humans have the privilege to enjoy the little things they take for granted, overlooking how something so mundane and so easily overlooked could paint a significant shade of color in their lives. Food only reminds him of all the things he envies of life, of humanity. A demon like him who profits off misery doesn't need to be reminded of his own. 

Minghao gobbles his burger up, humming and nodding. 

Mingyu shoves him more of his fries, smiling the same wavelength of annoying as the very first smile he flashed Minghao. "So, demons do eat burgers and fries after all."

Bobtori doesn't bark at Minghao anymore. Not as much after he cradles the squirming dog into his arms and whispers demon secrets into his ears. 

-

The demon watches him sleep. 

By his bed, in a chair. In the dark. His red eyes big and bright and fixated on Mingyu's body under the covers. Still as a corpse on a good night, restlessly tossing and turning on a bad one. He lingers for hours on end to which not even the dog notices, sometimes stays the entire night thinking how good his soul would taste. Better than any "best burger in this side of the town". How it would weigh on his stomach like a hundred Christmas dinners at once, how Mingyu's essence would feel running through his veins in sparks of energy and vitality. Of life. Or any semblance of it anyway. Anything close to it. 

Sometimes, he crawls into his bed too, just to feel it. To feel him close to him, breathing, dreaming, alive. He does this with his masters, a lot of times before. They never caught him sweeping their hair to the side, in the most tender and slightest of touch. They never caught him whispering a tune into their ears, any tune he fancies at the moment. A tune they'd catch in their sleep and find themselves humming the next day, puzzled. They never caught him drag a nail across the expanse of their skin, so lightly, so ghostly, craving the very warmth it radiates. They would never know. For hours on end, he would stand there. Sit there. Hover. Head tilted to the side. Eyes bloodshot. Greedy. Hungry, brilliant ruby in the dark. _Waiting._

And they would never know. 

-

Minghao hums a tune one night, and Mingyu catches it in his sleep, humming a few notes of the same tune the next day as he brews some potion in front of Minghao in the kitchen. The demon is scribbling all over the witch's notes when he asks him, "Were you in my room last night?" 

Bobtori whines at his feet. The demon bites his tongue to avoid instinctively telling him the truth. "Was I? I can be everywhere."

"Were you in my room last night?"

That's a new tone. Mingyu stops stirring to direct his entire attention at Minghao, who's applying double the force on the paper. "And if I was?"

"You don't have to." Mingyu shakes his head, doesn't seem to mind. "What are you, my guardian angel?" 

Minghao snorts, reaching down to cradle Bobtori in his arms, cooing softly into the dog's snow-white, cotton fur. 

"What?"

"Guardian angel?"

"Guardian _demon."_

The demon allows himself a sweet smile. Sweeter than any smile he has given Mingyu so far. Bobtori licks his lips and a chuckle leaves his mouth. "Maybe. Something like that." 

-

The demon watches him sleep one bad night, a thin layer of sweat coats Mingyu's golden skin. Breathing labored, strained. Bothered. Limbs thrashing against sheets. Yet Minghao remains still in the dark, watching. Red eyes puncturing, slicing through the murky darkness of space. 

Then, he hears a name slip past Mingyu's lips in a painful whisper as if every syllable was a tug against demon chains. Every letter leaving an impression on his very soul. He says it again and again. Minghao hears the name all too well. 

-

The demon knows Jihoon through Mingyu's stories shared over lunch because ever since the diner, Minghao couldn't say no to the food. He is obliged anyway, so long as he carries the name _Minghao_ and the giver of his name is alive and well. He's sprightly on top of it, initiating conversations like he is talking to a friend, rather than an enslaved demon at his disposal to do his bidding. He knows Jihoon in fragments, catches casual mentions in quirky anecdotes of Mingyu's life as a witch. Until now, he knows Jihoon is 1) a friend whom he went way back with, 2) some kind of a songwriter, and 3) in a bit of a pickle emotionally. 

"But only recently _,"_ Mingyu says, skimming the cookbook and checking his cupboards for available ingredients. He's extra chirpy today, with enough grease in his mouth to tell him in full about the Jihoon he hears so much about. "Jihoon doesn't usually... engage in things like that. You know..." he makes vague hand gestures Minghao frowns at. "relationships. He doesn't go out much, always holed up in his little space making music. I used to drag him out just to enjoy a peaceful night. Well, he _used to not._ But now..."

The demon's not sure what he's talking about most of the time but he quips accordingly, tossing out helpful comments here and there. He secures the pepper shaker after taking a peek at the cookbook. "He's a big boy now?"

" _Troublesome boy,_ that's what he is. Got himself in some trouble recently." The human plants his hands around the edges of the granite counter, leaning most of his weight on his arms and staring down at one particularly tasty picture of a Sichuan dish on the cookbook page. He likes to fix up Chinese food lately. "But there's nothing I wouldn't do for him, you know? He's everything I have. Well..." He makes a "look around" gesture with a quaint smile. "obviously." 

Minghao does look around. Then he says, "Where is he now?" 

Mingyu turns to the stove. "I don't know." 

He knows. That's why he's this bothered about it. 

Minghao gives him a hand throughout the entire process, passing him one ingredient after another, like a well-oiled cog put in place. Doesn't even know if they're doing it correctly, but Mingyu proves to be trustworthy around the kitchen, bustling behind the counter like he knows what he's doing and how to do it, with the expertise of an experienced home cook. Minghao graciously tells him it tastes good because he knows it does and not because of the radiance of Mingyu's smiles when he hears the compliments, eyes crinkling into crescents and face squishing like a dumpling whenever he does. 

Minghao couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so genuinely, out of happiness. Satisfaction. Doesn't remember much from the time he was alive. Glad he doesn't. There wasn't much to remember anyway. Not much glee to remember smiling about. Almost as if all he did was walk through the earth an empty husk... 

It might have been his demon essence eating away all that makes him human, all that reminds him of being one once. 

Mingyu burns himself and pouts. Minghao snorts at him and says "Treating your burns isn't part of the deal" to which Mingyu responds with a scrunch of his nose and makes a halfhearted beeline for the first aid kit. 

"A demon who can't even heal his master." He scoffs. 

"I'm a _demon,_ not an angel," Minghao shots back, rolling his eyes. "I don't heal."

And he doesn't.

-

There are nights when Mingyu doesn't sleep and Minghao stands outside his room, leaning against the door, hearing everything behind the hardwood. Every mutter under his breath, every word of his chant, the very pace of his breathing. Minghao hears it through the eerie stillness, beyond the illusion of nightly peace. Behind the veil, Mingyu's motivations become apparent as day, the point to all of this. He is, after all, just a human with desires, brimming with it. Craving for it. 

As it turns out, they're as simple as a human can be. Predictable, in fact. Mingyu is no different. 

There are nights when Mingyu reminds Minghao what he's capable of doing, and how far he'll go just to do it. Even that level of persistence is expected of him. 

In another life, Mingyu might've been someone who is smart enough not to lead down the same path he took in this life. In another life, he might've been smart enough to avoid Minghao and demons altogether. Maybe also the thing that put him in this situation in the first place. 

Minghao stands still on the same spot on nights when Mingyu doesn't sleep and every second, he secretly mourns for the human brimming with desire. Reminds him of his own. 

-

Mingyu learns about a lot of things. About demons and about Minghao, too. 

"What are your names before?" 

Minghao sips on his flavorless iced tea until it's half-empty, Mingyu tells him to slow down or risk choking. The chilly autumn air dances on his face, on his nose. Tickles it a little bit. The sun sets with grandeur in the distance, a flare of orange and pink smearing across the clouds. The demon guesses they've been together long enough for things to get this personal between them, so with a rub on the nose, he enumerates all the names he could remember, each one merely words slipping out his lips. They used to hold a lot of power to them. As much as his master wants their wish, as much as Minghao is useful to them. "Bagay" was a particularly outstanding name out of the bunch as it translates to "thing" in Filipino, given to him by a farmer turned _haciendero_ turned rotting corpse after the demon's done with him. A name fit for a demon who's nothing more than just a means to an end. 

"How long have you been around?"

"Now, that's rude," Minghao points out. "You don't ask a demon how old he is."

Mingyu giggles at him. Minghao looks at the nearest tree and lets go of his smile. "A long time." He tips his head as an afterthought. "Maybe, not that long for most demons. Just a couple of decades." 

"How did you..." Mingyu clears his throat. "Turn?"

He's cursed to tell him the truth too. That's the worst he could ever have done in a human's favor. 

"I made a deal with a demon once, like you," Minghao admits, and his mind digs through layers to pull out a distant memory of his own demon. Apart from the memory that he had one and that his demon had a nice, alluring smile that rivals the sun, he couldn't remember anything else. "I asked for..."

 _The same thing basically._ Minghao thinks but doesn't say. Mingyu catches on and hums under his breath, stroking Bobtori's fur. "It's one of the factors for selecting a bunch of new demons, apparently. What goes around, comes around." 

Mingyu learns more about demons. About how there's another way to kill demons other than _the_ Greek fire (unfortunately, the recipe got lost in history) and that's draining a demon of its demonic essence and the correct way to do it. It's death worse than by Greek fire. It turns them back to mortals. (What self-respecting demon wants to become a puny human again? Someone who hasn't forgotten, probably. That was possible.)

"But that's what you want, isn't it?" Minghao asks. "That's why you're doing this. To bring someone back."

_Jihoon._

The human chuckles as a response. That's all the response the demon needs. Mingyu tells him, "The moment I named you, I'm pretty much done for. Aren't I?"

Minghao stretches his limbs out like a cat under the moon, yawns for good measure, sighing as the moonlight kisses every bit of his exposed skin. It's been a while since he's in the presence of such arrant desire. Almost tangible, almost too loud to bear. But Mingyu loves things that way: sincere. In large quantities. All-out. All-in.

"Yes. You are," replies the demon. He's bound to the truth after all. 

"That's why I don't care. I just want to learn as much as I can for Jihoon." 

The demon snorts. 

"Minghao."

His chest jumps, every syllable feels like a needle pricked into him. "Yeah."

"What do you know about love?" 

The last of orange and the pink chases after the disappearing sun, and the blue leaks into the vastness of space, dancing across it where the light should've been. It's getting colder by the minute, yet the demon feels nothing. "Just enough to stay away from it." 

-

That night, Mingyu disappears into the demon realm, in search of one demon he wishes free from the shackles of eternity. All those nights he spent without sleep have finally paid off when he successfully unearths a portal to the underworld. Minghao follows suit not a while later, the contract's bind tugging at the pit of his gut like a taut leash. He chases after the human filled with anticipation, the only thing they're allowed to feel throughout the rest of their damned lives. 

Minghao finds him in the dark, his wand lay broken a few feet away, and tells him, "I've told you everything about demons," Minghao says, eyes flaring red. Hot with disdain. It's nothing personal. It's just the eyes of a hungry demon about to collect his dues. 

"Yeah," Mingyu says, smiling. Tired. Defeated, yet at the same time, triumphant. "Thanks, by the way." 

Nobody has thanked the demon before for anything. 

\- 

Minghao loses his name the moment its giver loses their life, yet he reaps his payment. And he could feel the semblance of life pierce through his lifeless form, fuelling him for another decade or so. 

The demon shrugs off the binds of his previous transaction because it wasn't more than what it was and drifts again, for eternity. Nameless. Somewhere above, in the realm of the humans, a demon was freed from his own and was sound asleep. Bobtori licking at his familiar face, satisfied at the reunion. Ignorant of what it costs. 


End file.
